


time moves at a different pace

by oh-rileywilliams (scrxamitout)



Series: clean (we are the tigers au) [2]
Category: We Are The Tigers - Allen
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Farrah - centric, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Self Loathing, Vomiting, not exactly a nobody dies but some people don't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrxamitout/pseuds/oh-rileywilliams
Summary: “Hi Farrah, it's Annleigh. I have no idea where you are, and we should be leaving now. So if you don't call me back, I will absolutely go without you.”orAnnleigh leaves Farrah behind.
Relationships: (minor) Annleigh/Clark (We Are The Tigers), Annleigh & Farrah (We Are The Tigers), Clark & Farrah (We Are The Tigers)
Series: clean (we are the tigers au) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910689
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. when I was drowning

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST THINGS FIRST I want to scream thank you to Lexi who beta'ed this as she always does and she doesn't even like WATT so I can't be more grateful for her, I mean it.  
> Also, I think all trigger warnings are in the tags, still I don't think I've gotten further/added another one outside We Are The Tigers canon.  
> Title and everything is based on Clean from Taylor Swift because I can.

So far the day —or night, or whatever hour it was since she wasn’t quite processing time at the moment— was going great. No guy asking for her number, or age, the girls didn’t seem bitchy even though they were probably judging her, they weren’t short on alcohol, and her usual crowd was like they always were.

It came like waves how she sometimes missed her old friends, the old school, the old neighborhood. When it was her mom and her, no one else. Just the two against the rest of the world. She missed the chocolate cakes made down the street, and how sometimes her next-door neighbor would do  _ pastel tres leches _ . She always had a sweet tooth after all.

But then they moved, and it had grown in her, slowly but surely, the way it was easy to be there. Easy to be desired if she blinked at a guy, easy to be liked if she got drunk, easy to be enjoyed if she didn’t talk about herself, easy to spend O’Daniels’ money on alcohol. Because no one in those parties cared about her feelings.

She shakes her head, no, it’s not the time. She’s still on her third cup, let sad moments come after the fifth, or sixth.

She lets herself adventure at the idea of grabbing something sweet to eat, and wonders if she would be able to make pancakes, but cooking was not in her plans. She wishes for a chocolate bar, or something similar. Maybe she hasn’t eaten enough that day, but it was for the best. The less food, the easiest it was to feel lightheaded, even without alcohol.

Her phone vibrates once again, and this time she can’t just ignore. She knows they have that stupid cheer team sleepover she dreads. Farrah loved the sport, it was a great escape, but since the incident and the concussion —and the fact that none of them have ever been  _ friends— _ she isn’t fond of the idea of spending a night at Riley Williams’ house.

“Farrah, where on Earth are you?” Annleigh’s voice was clear from the other side.

The younger girl tries to put herself together, quickly collecting her voice, trying to stop her tongue from stumbling on itself.

“I don’t know, where are you?” She asks with a hint of disdain.

“This is not the time!” The other says. “We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago.”

“So leave ten minutes ago!” Farrah comments.

“We’re on our way,” there’s a pause, a second of doubt, “where are you?”

“I really don’t know…” She admits casually. “I’m going to drop a pin!”

“Farrah!”

“How do you drop a pin?”

She finishes the call quickly. The sun is still shining outside, which means nothing will get better for her, giving Farrah the expertise to drink another sip out of her red cup. Even if the room was spinning enough, nothing else was going to help in that moment, probably not even water.

After that cup is another one, and then one more.

Soon she’s in a bedroom, lying down in a bed she can’t remember how or when she got there. There’s no one around and she relaxes, looking outside of the window as time goes by and her head feels empty. Finally a moment when she forgets her thoughts before being able to process them, to just feel nothing.

The room door opens, and her head makes a quick movement giving her a headache.

“Farrah?” A masculine voice asks.

“Clark? What are you doing here?”

She barely opens her mouth to talk, and trips on her words, but it doesn’t matter because she doesn’t care. She has to not care.

“Annleigh sent me for you, c’mon, let’s go to my car.”

“But I don’t want to go to a stupid sleepover!” She protests.

“Then I can take you home.”

“I’m fine.” She lies.

“It’s dark outside and you’re in another county.”

“What do you mean I’m in another county?” A memory flashes through her mind. “Oh shit I’m in another county.”

“Can we go home?”

Farrah doesn’t answer for a moment, but she nods and lets Clark guide the way.

As soon as they get to his car, a wave of nausea comes over her, a late effect from getting up. He turns on the engine while she tries to focus on something else. But everything is moving more than necessary and soon it’s more than she can bear.

“Please stop!”

It takes a second, and she finds herself quickly and violently opening the door of the car. Before noticing what she’s doing, she’s on her knees, all she had taken early leaving her stomach. For a moment she feels scared, trying to promise herself that Clark is not going to leave her there, but the doubt and fear just deteriorate her state, with tears streaming down her face.

Farrah finds it hard to inhale, to maintain herself, but manages to go through it. Breathing slowly. In, hold and out, and it works.

The first thing she notices is Clark’s phone broken in the sideway next to her, and Annleigh’s nightguard close to it. She looks up to him, face full of terror, but he smiles and makes a movement with his hand, brushing it off as if nothing had happened.

“I think I will have to give this to Annleigh in person.” He gestures for the nightguard. “Also give her a heads up that my phone broke.”

“Sorry.” She murmurs. “Maybe put it in rice?”

“I don’t think it will work.” He offers half a smile. “Besides, accidents happen. But now you will have to wait until I get to Riley’s house before yours. We can wait until you are ready to continue.”

Farrah nods, and decides to stay seating for a moment, senses returning to her. It’s a painful sensation, to know she was just left on her own if it wasn’t for the jock her step-sister was dating. Her mom was not with her. Annleigh didn’t care enough either, apparently. Instead she was alone, and sick, and feeling like a burden as she always did.

When getting back in the car, she can’t help but wish her sister was with her. That she still cared after all the months of having to take care of her. But maybe she had reached her breaking point. Maybe there was no turning back now. Maybe Farrah was supposed to be left alone in another county.

Maybe it was for the best, that way she couldn’t keep ruining everyone’s lives.

“Feeling better?” Clark asks.

“I would if you stopped driving like a little bitch.” Farrah snaps back.

Instead of getting the expected annoyed face or huff, she finds Clark laughing, smiling back at her.

“You know you don’t have to keep space for Jesus when you’re on the road, right?”

Farrah tries to fill her voice with as much venom as possible, the response she gets is the same, a warm laugh. Just that, nothing evil, no words spat at her, not a scolding. Anger starts bubbling from her. She can’t be sure why that is happening, but still can’t help it. A side effect of alcohol is being irrational after all.

“Why are you so nice?” She enquires bluntly.

“I’m not nice,” Clark explains, “I just thought it was funny.”

“But not only that… With Annleigh you just… You are just nice and sweet to her. Do you have any ulterior intentions? What are you hiding?”

The brief mention of her step sister making its way to his face. She finds the boy smiling once again. His hair shines even though the sun is already gone. Clark looks like every other guy at the church, exactly like any other from the football team, still something about him is different. Lovelier, gentler.

“I thought if someone was going to give me a talk, it was going to be her dad.” He jokes. “I don’t have anything to hide, I love her. I think she would be happy to hear this talk.”

“Sure, hearing that her boyfriend loves her is what every girl wants.” Farrah says, voice pitchy in an attempt of lightening the mood.

“I meant; she would be happy about you worrying for her.” He explains.

“She hates me.” The young teenager mutters. “Everyone hates me.”

“Do you really think so?”

Farrah doesn’t answer, which is enough for him to assume that there’s more truth to her words than just a drunken statement. Her eyes drop to her hands, while she plays with the ring that’s sitting on her index finger.

“She doesn’t hate you. I don’t hate you.” The boy assures.

“You don’t know me.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “And if she didn’t hate me, why did she leave me at the party?”

“Annleigh is complicated, but I can promise she doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t know how to deal with things she wasn’t taught. She might not  _ understand you _ , but there’s a big gap between that and hating you. She’s scared of losing another person she loves.” He explains. “As for me, I don’t understand either, but you are fun to have around. Especially when you are not drunk, or breaking my phone.”

“What is so hard to understand? I’m fucked up, that’s it.”

“You are not. You are better than alcohol.”

“I’m not fucked up because of alcohol, okay?” She raises her voice.

“Then why don’t you give it up?” Clark wonders.

“Because it’s not that easy.” Farrah takes a moment before continuing. “Everyone else does it.”

Sometimes she remembers when they first met.

It was the day of the wedding. Even if they have heard about each other before, the day of her mother’s wedding to Annleigh’s father was the day they officially met. He was dressed in a tux, and she was in a dress that matched her step sister’s. He invited her to dance and his girlfriend nodded, eagerly including her in the family.

Farrah drank champagne during the toast, after all, weddings don’t happen every day. A week later she drank wine from her mother’s glass when she wasn’t paying attention. A year later she was drunk at a game, with Annleigh who was uncomfortable around her, and Clark who gave her sad looks.

“I think you are better than everyone.”

“A tragedy, I kept proving I’m just a loser.” It comes out the wrong way, more sentimental than intended. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. You are just going to marry Annleigh, have pretty little kids and a house with a white fence and whatever shit Disney promises. That’s not my life, alright?”

“You are right. But you are hurting and that’s not fine. You need help.” He insists. “The more time you take to ask for it, the worse it will be.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” She raises her voice. “You think I haven’t tried to talk about this to  _ anyone _ ? But everyone brushes it off, everyone says it’s normal and it’s fucking  _ scary _ . I’m scared I will never stop and yet I can’t do anything. No one hears.”

“I do.” Clark promises. “I hear you. And we are going to Riley’s house, and then I’m going to take you to yours. I will sit with your mom and Mr. O’Daniel and say that I’m worried. And if they don’t do anything, I will. I am here. Annleigh will also be. You don’t have to be alone Farrah, just let us in. Tell us how to help.”

_ As if I haven’t tried _ , she thinks.

“It’s not fair that you are so… bangable and nice.”

“Bangable?”

“Yes, don’t play it dumb.” She laughs. “You know what that means… bangable.”

“Stop.” He laughs.

“Bangable!” Farrah insists, with a smile.

“Stop!” He cracks a big smile.

“Annleigh is lucky to have you.”

The rest of the trip is spent in silence.

Her head is pounding, the first clue of a horrible headache coming the next morning. The clattering of the car does not help at all when it comes to trying to feel better, but still the rhythmic sounds make it easier to ignore her reality.

Maybe that was all she was at that point. Just side effects of alcohol. Another statistic, another symptom. A part of her humanity might have been lost, broken, disappeared to never come back. She had consumed herself, all she knew about the girl she once was, until there was nothing but alcohol.

The car stops and Clark approaches Riley’s house, the nightguard in his hand. His steps are measured, not going too fast nor too slow. In the dark of the night, the sunshine drops of his hair can still be seen, a certain light coming from the house shining upon him.

“Clark!” Farrah calls, the boy is quick to react, turning around. “Thank you.”

His smile grows bigger, and he makes a signal with his hand Farrah can’t recognize.

“No need to thank me,  _ sis. _ ” The blonde guy smiles. “Always here for you.”

The warmth of his voice brings a smile to Farrah’s face, who finds herself laughing along with her step-sister’s boyfriend. She shakes her hand as a goodbye, getting the same gesture in return. He’s quick to go back to his task, coming through the window in an attempt to pass unnoticed. Walking to the light makes him look like some celestial form, almost like an angel.

The street is dark, and for a moment Farrah just keeps staring at the house. It’s the first time she ever sees it, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. It was barely bigger than the O’Daniels’ house, with probably a nicer backyard than the one they had. Still, all the houses in the gated community looked quite alike, indicating the wealthy owners that could afford them.

With the sun having hidden, the summer breeze became colder, chiller than what Farrah hoped for.  _ Coming back to her senses provoked cold after all _ , so it might have been something to blame. She wonders if it’s hot inside, if they are playing a game or watching a movie.

And time goes by, with all of them inside and Farrah daydreaming about what might’ve been if she was there too. Her thoughts vary between happy scenes, between multiple movies and life that was not real. But as much as she tries, she knows it would still be a lie. She knows Annleigh wouldn’t be waiting for her, Riley would just give a pitied look, Cairo a disapproving one.

She knows Chess is in there, and she also knows there’s no way she is doing anything if Chess is the base.

Memories she wants to erase hurtful in her mind. The throwing pain in her head after the concussion, the sense of loss and inutility. How, even if it wasn’t her fault, she was still a failure. Unwanted in the team. And then alcohol, and more alcohol, and doctors who didn’t hear.

The night had some comfort in the dark, the stars barely starting to shine. The moon in the clear sky. Farrah hated the darkness when she was younger, but now alone with her thoughts brought her comfort. She wished she would forget everything the next morning.

A light wakes her up from her thoughts, and she hides in her seat. A motorcycle parks just behind the car, and she can see a girl with a pizza approaching the house. A part of her wants to get out of the car, to just join the party as she was supposed to do.

Her stomach hurts, hunger making itself obvious, and pizza sounds good. Maybe not eating wasn’t her best idea, but for some reason it came naturally, just like another lie. At some point everything became that, just another white lie, just something that shouldn’t hurt anyone.

And then it’s Annleigh and Cairo in the door, and she can see the smile on her stepsister face. Farrah can’t just ruin it coming drunk once again. Making the junior try to help her. To pick up pieces she can’t even pick up by herself.

So she stays in the car, until the pizza girl is gone, until the door of the house is fully closed. Until there’s no one to watch her. She picks up her flask.

Not for the first time, the sophomore thinks about it. She thinks about leaving it all, for better or worse.

It’s not so hard to pull the window down, and it’s not harder to let the alcohol spill from the flask directly into the ground, to the green —or blueish for the light of the moon— grass. It’s never hard to make a decision, but it is hard to maintain it. To not feel as if she was choking, to stop craving the feeling of relief once the first wave of drunkenness came, to not think how much alcohol perfume must have.

She does it, watching slowly how her most precious drink goes to waste, but knowing in the back of her mind that it will come back, because there’s no other way around. At this point it was a second nature. She could never be back to the girl she was, to play hide and seek with her grandmother or bake cookies with her mom.

She leaves the car and walks in the grass for a moment, she gets closer to the house and sits in the green carpet that is around it. The cold breeze slowly erasing her drunkness, or what was left of it.

Farrah had been broken in more pieces that she could ever count. Or could be put back together, for that matter.

It’s easy to swear that she took the decision, finally once and for all. To lie to herself. Nevertheless, after all, she knows it. Farrah knows that she is weak, that she’s useless. No matter what she does, why would anything change. No one has ever liked her, no one stuck around for long enough to prove that she was worthy of love.

A part of her felt betrayed by herself, for not being strong enough to know that the decision was made. Instead it was going to come back, it always did.

A scream comes from the house.


	2. that's when I could finally breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, I can't stop thanking Lexi! 
> 
> Also, if someone wants to add to this au, write a one shot, or whatever, feel free to ask me to add you to the series! With some friends I know they want to, and I'm really up for it!

The neighborhood is already asleep, and probably if it wasn’t because she was near the window, drowning the alcohol she wouldn’t have heard. It didn’t seem like Annleigh nor Clark, but rather a voice she knew but couldn’t recognize.

She’s quick to jump into action, leaving the flask behind. Farrah follows the footsteps of her sister’s boyfriend, but it’s not as easy. The window was left open, but with her stumbling it’s hard to get through it. She’s only able to pass one leg.

The corridor’s light is off, but she can see a male figure walking from right to left. She can also hear people coming from the other set of stairs, and for a second wonders how great an idea it was. Blood curdling screams were never good news, and she should’ve run _away from the trouble,_ not _to_ it. But she couldn’t help herself.

“Farrah?” Riley’s voice sounds clear but confused. “When did you get here?”

“Were you the one who screamed?” Cairo enquiries, less friendly.

“How did you get here?” Kate wonders.

The younger teenager loses her breath for a moment, panicking under the questions and her delicate state. Alcohol makes it harder to keep her emotions in check, to control what she says. Instead, she sounds small.

“I just heard a scream and wanted to check on you.” She says, eyes fixated on Annleigh.

“Hey, come here, I will help you through that window.” Riley offers.

With the help she’s now fully into the house, and the captain smiles at her, but it doesn’t last long until they hear another loud scream. They share a look, and once again the fight or flight response is activated in their minds.

“Where is it coming?” Annleigh asks.

“I think it’s coming upstairs.” Riley comments.

“Chess is upstairs.” Kate is the first to react.

The five girls are quick to get themselves upstairs, and Kate pushes the bathroom door open without a second to consider what might be there. There might be someone, or something they would rather not see, but still nobody takes their eyes out of the scene.

Farrah wishes she did.

“Reese? Oh! Oh my God– Oh, my God!” Riley is the first one to react.

Chess is there, lying unconscious in the shower, in a pool of her own blood. It’s dripping from her mouth, her chest, her stomach. There’s almost no part of her porcelain skin that’s not covered in red, and the smell of it is so strong that everyone winces for a moment. Dead eyes staring at the vast darkness. She’s as pale as she has ever been. Her clothes look both soft and grotesque. She looks angelic and nightmarish, a scene so tragic and gruesome that Farrah can’t keep her eyes off of it.

But she’s dead. Chess is dead.

And the idea is hard to settle on her mind, and for the first time she’s not sure about what death means. It’s so abstract, no longer be part of this world, that even if the proof is right in front of her eyes, it can’t be happening.

“I just found Chess… And Clark, they were already here together!” Reese explains.

A knot is made in Farrah’s stomach. Clark was alive, he has to be, she just saw him.

Except he’s sitting on the floor, blood dripping from his skull. He doesn’t react to Annleigh’s voice. Nor to her gentle touch as she moves her hands through his hair, they come out covered in red. His skin is not so pale, and his blonde hair still looks like it did when they were in the car, when he was alive, when he promised Farrah could get better.

Her step sister has a look she never did. Distraught, frail, desperate.

Kate shares the same look as she sits in front of Chess, repeating her name time and time again. She tries promising it is all alright, when the truth is inevitable. The junior touches her best friend as if she could just come back at any given moment.

“Wake up… Chess please wake up.” Her voice is small, barely above a whisper. “Please don’t leave me.”

It tranquil, is delicate, and it’s the opposite of the scene. It’s loving and calming and reassuring but heartbreaking. Because it’s obvious there’s no way in hell the older girl will come back. It’s impossible that she will somehow make it through when the amount of blood around her is that much, when she is clearly not breathing and probably haven’t done it in a moment.

“What?” Is all Farrah can say.

“Farrah,” the mascot calls, “How did you get in?”

“But it’s a gated community!” The captain says, kneeling in between the bodies.

Farrah can’t help but notice the differences. The way Chess body is posed; abused by violence, full of anger, something out of nature, so fuming and livid. The cuts, the splattered blood, everything looks like a scene from hell. And instead Clark looks peaceful, tranquil. He looks like an angel, his eyes closed, his face still a slight pink.

Clark looks like he’s going to wake up.

But he isn’t, and neither is Chess. They are gone, forever, every thought they might had, every plan, every new idea, it’s gone. There’s no going back now, and Farrah can’t help but feel guilt. If she only texted Annleigh her address, if she only didn’t break the phone, Clark would be alive. He would be fine. He would have a chance to live his life.

Her stomach twists at the idea of them never returning, never speaking another word, laughing or breathing again. She wants to close her eyes and wake up, she wants everything to be a lie, but as surreal as it is, she knows it’s true.

“Oh my God, oh my God–“Annleigh utters.

“We need help!” A scream breaks from Kate. “She needs help.”

“She’s dead!” Riley says, as her whole body is trembling.

“We have to call the police; we have to do something.” The junior insists.

“We will go with Riley and look for our phones.” Cairo offers. “We will sort this out.”

“He can’t be, he… he can’t be.” Annleigh mutters.

Farrah locks her eyes with Riley, who nods, giving her permission to get out. She grabs her sister by her wrists, and tries to talk but it’s impossible. Still, Annleigh doesn’t react, she follows as Farrah moves, numb, dazed and shocked.

To say Annleigh was distressed was to minimize her state.

Farrah had never seen her stepsister so frail, trembling. Everything was both, too slow and too fast. The older girl's skin was too hot to touch, or maybe the other was just freezing after spending a copious amount of time outside in the car. The bright, cold light of the basement made the room seemingly spin, but closing her eyes was not an option, not with the image of Chess and Clark still tattooed in her brain.

 _Water_ , water should help to calm down the distraught teenager and help with her current headache.

She sees an orange plastic water bottle and immediately recognizes it as her own, she longs for the liquor and it doesn’t take long until it’s in her hands again. Nevertheless, it’s empty. She shakes her head, focusing back on the self-assigned task.

_Water._

Farrah goes to the bathroom, too afraid to be upstairs, to be near the scene or the room with the knives. She opens the door and a scream leaves her lips before she can catch it. A girl was on the cold floor, holding tight on herself. The loud noise wakes her up, at the same time that Annleigh comes rushing through the door.

“Who are you?” The sophomore asks. “Why do you have blood on your face?”

“Who are _you_? And what do you mean blood on my–“ The younger girl moves a hand through her face, where indeed she can feel it. “Why do I have blood on my face!?”

She’s small, smaller than Farrah and her panicking face just brings memories about what is happening upstairs. There’s a cut on her cheek and she wonders if the girl hurt herself or if it was whoever went after Clark and Reese.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice sounds calming and trembling at the same time. “C’mon, let’s go to the couch.”

She holds the girl who doesn’t react to the touch, but follows in a non-conscious way. She’s lost, even more than Annleigh and Farrah at the moment. When they set a foot outside the bathroom, Riley and Cairo are already there, trying to help Reese calm down Kate.

“What’s going on?” Slurred words come out of her mouth.

Riley lets a small scream come out of her mouth, while quickly getting to the younger girls: “What happened?”

“It’s a cut, here on her cheek.” Farrah points out. “It’s a bit… deep.”

“I’m not… feeling… well.”

Mattie passes out before anyone can catch her.

“I will go to look for a first aid kit and… Reese stay with Kate, Cai can you help with Annleigh? Farrah if you have your phone please call the police.”

“My phone ran out of battery hours ago. Where are the others?” Farrah questions.

“Gone.” Kate speaks.

“Cairo can you get my charger?” Riley asks.

“No.” Cairo’s voice sounds. “Farrah help Annleigh and Riley, can we talk upstairs?”

The red-haired teenager directs an apprehensive look her way before nodding.

The room falls in an uncomfortable silence and Farrah tries to move next to Annleigh while the older step sister quickly retreats to the touch. She has also fallen into a catatonic state, hurtfully staring at Mattie. Instead, her classmate is crying, Kate never stops her quiet sobbing, holding a pillow while Reese’s eyes move all over the room.

Nobody talks, they just wait. A part of Farrah is nastily hoping Clark will walk into the room at any given point, that she will start fighting with Chess. It’s hard to process that both of them are nothing but a body without a mind.

That they’ll never wake up.

When the older girls come back, determination is written on Cairo’s face. Riley is trailing behind her, her steps heavier and face full of concern. For a moment time seems to freeze, and the image is gothic, a fog of mourning too thick to see things clearly. The basement has never looked darker. Somber faces everywhere, and the knowledge of the two bodies that sat upstairs, waiting for them to do something.

“You are a team with every girl in this house, you know we wouldn’t kill anyone!” The captain hissed.

“What I know is that Kate and Chess were fighting all night!” Her friend condemned her.

“And you with them.” She retorts back.

“You don’t think I did this?” Kate’s voice is small, but determination is strong in it.

Farrah can’t think about Kate killing Chess, not after how she looked at her. Not with how darling the stares they share or how much they respected each other. Maybe it was lack of a better word, or hopeful thinking, but maybe the girl would’ve described it as _love_.

“No, of course not!” Riley’s scream takes her out of her thoughts.

“And Farrah broke into the house, we don’t know for how long she has been here!” Cairo remarks.

“You saw me when I got in! You can check any cameras; I wasn’t in the house when it happened.” The sophomore is quick to defend herself.

“We have a responsibility to tell the cops what we saw.” She repeats, raising volume.

“Cairo’s right… Farrah, you didn’t exactly love Chess. Especially after the incident.” The mascot points out.

“Stop attacking her!” The red haired girl orders, walking to the younger girl’s side.

“And Annleigh, if something was happening between Chess and Clark…”

A part of this theory settles badly on everyone, in a way that no one can believe it but at this point it doesn’t even matter. Maybe if it’s true, they will move on. They will have a reason, but nothing seems enough. Especially when Farrah knows that it isn’t more than just a lie. She shoots a look to Reese, who is shaky, quieter than ever.

“There wasn’t– He was here to see me!” The girl promises. “He would never.”

“Maybe you found him with someone a little more fun.”

“Stop!” Kate is the one to interrupt Cairo. “What do we have to do?”

“If we mess with this, it’s gonna look a hundred times worse than just going to get help” The owner of the house affirms.

“And if we don’t, we spend the year in a murder investigation! We already went viral once!” Cairo is silent for a moment, her brain working to get a better idea of what to do. “Mattie.”

“What?” Farrah is the first one to inquire.

“We don’t know Mattie!” She exclaims.

“Mattie is an innocent girl.” The captain is the first to defend the other teammate.

“So are you, Riley! Look, it’s not what I want, but if we all agree on this, it’s us against her. She’s drunk!”

“That’s not a reason to blame someone!”

It comes before she can process it, and she can feel the eyes staring at her. Even the thoughts. She knows what everyone must be considering now, but what can matter now when there are two dead bodies they have to take care of.

“She’s passed out—” Cairo continues.

“You did that to her! She’s drunk because of _you!”_ Riley interrupts.

“She’s literally covered in blood, it’s perfect!”

“Cairo...”

“Okay, it’s not perfect, obviously-- We can call the cops, we just need to plant some evidence.” She finishes.

“There’s nothing here. There’s no murder weapon.” The dark-haired girl remembers.

“We’ll… We’ll get Mattie’s fingerprints on one of Riley’s knives. We’ll get a little messy—” The senior continues her plan.

“That’s gross!” The sophomore reacts.

“It’ll be Mattie’s problem and not ours! There’s a lot of pressure when you’re a freshman. Sometimes people just…” for a second she locks her eyes with Farrah’s, “snap.”

“If we do this there’s no going back.” Riley resolves. “We won’t be able to erase it.”

They are doomed, a sentence they can’t remove. A mark that will always be left, a guilt that they won’t ever outlive. It will be condemning someone innocent, someone who is asleep, harmless, not knowing they are plotting against her.

“I agree with Cairo.” Reese decides. “We don’t know who did it, and we don’t know _her_.”

“And what?” Farrah growls. “It might’ve been an outsider, the window was open; it doesn’t have to be us.”

“But they will investigate us.” Riley’s voice is dry and dusky, eyes staring at Cairo. “We have no other option.”

“We have to do this.” Annleigh assures, for the first-time addressing Farrah. “If they investigate, they’ll blame you. I won’t let you go.”

“And you will let _her_ go?”

“I don’t know her, Farrah! She’s not living at my house! She’s not my responsibility!”

“And I am? You are _not_ my babysitter!”

“But I’m your sister!” She cries. “And I can’t put you through what can happen.”

For a second, Clark's voice sounds in the back of her mind. The talk they had just hours ago like an echo she would rather not have. _She’s scared of losing another person she loves._ And the look on her step sister's face doesn’t contradict his words. For just a second Farrah relaxes in the warm thought of Annleigh feeling the same as her, feelings as scared as she is about being left behind. Feeling more affection than they have ever shown.

“It’s a matter of her or us.” Kate justifies. “I don’t want to do it but we have no choice.”

“We always have a choice.” The captain remarks.

“Going to jail? Is that your choice?” Cairo asks, while she observes the silence. “I thought so.”

Farrah doesn’t quite register the time as it passes. Her breathing is steady, up and down. Kate is holding Annleigh, or maybe it’s the opposite, either way it’s hard to tell. They hold each other firmly, as if their lives depend on it. The tears make her sister’s hair stuck to her face, while the other junior is not crying. There’s still something shared between them, a grief, an anguish, something Farrah can’t name. It’s an image of sadness, of wishing they could go back time, of knowing uncertainty was near.

Reese is quietly moving around, trying to help Cairo search for anything that might ruin their plan. The air in the room is thick, and she’s sure that if she had a knife, she could cut the air that surrounds them. But maybe that’s not something appropriate to say at that moment.

Riley is firm by her side, drawing patterns on her back and making her take sips of water. She lets Farrah cry on her shoulder and holds her while slowly letting her hair loose, the braids tightly made leaving behind their marks in the normally wavy hair. The redhead tries to get the sophomore to talk, but it’s impossible. Still, she remains there, stoic, kissing her temple and making sure her breathing is normal.

_In, hold and out. In, hold and out. In, hold and out._

It feels like a movie, like a dream, something surreal. The way Kate has her hands on Annleigh’s hair, the way Annleigh tries to murmur reassuring things to the other, as if they were best friends, as if they were _close_. The same comes to Cairo, how she asks Reese —she doesn’t use the stupid nickname, no, she uses _Reese_ — to _please_ keep checking on Mattie while she talks to the cops through the phone. The way Riley sounds, sweet, nurturing, promising that everything will pass.

Farrah doesn’t quite register when the cop cars arrive, nor when the sirens stop.

Farrah doesn’t register the cold air of the night hitting against her skin.

Farrah also doesn’t know when Mattie is pulled away. Or when she makes the confession.

She never knows when, or if, she stops being drunk.

It all feels like a lie, maybe because it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and kudos are lovely!
> 
> also come to say hi to my tumblr (oh-boleyn) or send me a message to get the discord server!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are really appreciated and come to say hi to my tumblr (oh-boleyn)! We also have a WATT Discord server, so if anyone wants to join just comment!


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